The color of the voices | Teen Ink

The color of the voices

February 21, 2018
By Nea2019 BRONZE, Rhome, Texas
Nea2019 BRONZE, Rhome, Texas
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

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The most prejudice thing I know on earth is discrimination itself. Many people may not think that they do this. They think no harm is done. Though I think otherwise. Therefore, I want to speak out for those who can’t.
    I am a proud Mexican-American though many people think that I should even have the right to call myself American. The only people who can are those of white descendants. Being discriminated in not the best thing in the world. This comes with labels, and names that you never know when they will call you out for wet backs, and aliens like if we were not human. Though little do they know that many of the people that they discriminate actually help their country. The U.S. itself has over a million people who came from different places around the world. Though those most discriminated are the Muslims, Asians, and most of all the latinos. I have seen and felt discrimination, though you may think that just because you don’t say it it won’t hurt anyone. Well your WRONG. After so many years of living. Our tiny brains have  trained themselves to see where we belong and were we don’t. Still till this day I can see where I am wanted and where I am not. I have thought some days why did god send me with tan skin, my round dark eyes, and long dark hair.Why couldn’t he have made me lighter. Though I still love being Mexican;why not a lighter skinned one.
      Our language changes everything too we can understand both languages, but sometimes they treat us like anything but Americans. Many discriminations that I have felt has been with my parents. People look at us as if our family didn’t matter. Even though we are all one race on this other that helps one another. People still do not see that. They don’t know the struggles we have to face everyday to make a living. Adults with being humiliated at their jobs and kids at their schools by the way they talk. We can’t help that our s’s sound like x’s, or that sometimes we forget how to spell words. Sometimes knowing two languages can get hard. Our brains have to learn to switch from spanish to english. As children our minds have to know how to communicate with our loved ones at home, and with the rest of the world. Even before we are born we learn to speak spanish with every color that comes with language, or seems to come from the language. Will english is taught in a more of a loose language that seems to not have much of a color scheme. Sometimes people make fun of the way we speak though we truly don’t mean it. I try my best everyday to get better at the way I speak this foreign language  that my ancestors didn’t even know. As I slowly start to forget the language that my tough was first taught to speak. On how to form the letters and every accent that comes with it. It angers me to forget how to say the most simply things in this beautiful tough. Sometimes my own mother doesn’t even understand me either. When I speak to my grandparents in Mexico the only question that runs through my mind is, “ What if I mess up?” . It seems as if it were a gene. My father tries his best everyday to speak with english speakers some are nice, and some are not so much. They pretend not to understand him, though some may be honest but some just do it on purpose just to make fun. I know it is hard to understand what he is saying most of the time, but some words can still be figured out. My whole life I have seen that it is not easy to speak both languages.
     The only reason why we go through this is to make a living. We see our parents and other family members struggle. We live to educate ourselves to get a job were we can help those who have given their whole lifes up for us. I watch as my dad get up before the roastor crows, and get ready for his long day of work. I also see as my mother comes home late nights just, because we need that extra money that is offered to her. I have seen as my parents work all their vacation just so I could get the best. They call us jon stealers for that. The only thing we are guilty of is trying to better ourselves and help those who we love. Everytime I go to walmart and see someone sending money to their loved ones i  Mexico. I put myself in their shoes, and I know that that money they are sending was not easy to get. Then why do people think it is. If they work hard for their money so do we. Nothing is given to us. We won’t ask for government help sense we know that the answer will be “no”. Even though we are U.S. citizens. Our parents have taught us that nothing is going to be handed to us, and we have to work hard for whatever we want. They don’t want us to go through the same thing as they did. This is why they come to the U.S. for the well known, “ American Dream”. Which they have learned is not at all true. This is why most latino kids try their best in school, because we know that if we want to be something more in life then we have to educate ourselves. Though many others think that we are also taking that away from other races that seem to need it much more than we do. Though we all need to be educated and that should never be taken away from anyone not matter what.Though most of us don’t even think of that. Our parents do a very good job at hiding most of this form us, but everyday we go out they are afraid that many hateful people may hurt us. Though we know what goes on we know what our parents have to go through everyday. They don’t love it, but they do it for their reason of being their loved ones.
     I know that all of this may not mean much to many people, but it means alot to me. Sense most of this includes those who I love and myself. At some point I have hated myself for who I and where I from. Though I have slowly learned to love myself, and those around me. I love being latina. I love Mexican. I love being American, but most of all I love being Mexican- American. They both make me who I am. I like the hamburgers and the tacos. I like the fourth of July and the sixteenth of September. They make our worlds complete. They may callus the most colorful words in their dictionary, but all we know is that if we stay together and lift our voices nothing can get in our way. We all prove to both sides that we belong here no matter what. For the love we hold for both countries. The country in which we were born, and the country that our blood coes form. To many we may not belong here, but this is the place we call home as well we call our other half. Both countries hold a special place in my heart, which will never be taken away.


The author's comments:

My family and my loved ones inspired me to write this piece.  


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MrFox said...
on Feb. 24 2018 at 2:39 pm
Fantastic read mate. Rather well written. Keep it up.